NHL owners are a fickle bunch. They're savvy investors, skillful prognosticators, overall captains of industry. But what Joey Middle Class and Johnny Blue Collar fail to understand is that these billionaires who preside over the day-to-day actions of the NHL franchises we all know and love and used to watch play hockey is that they too are human. Behind the steely gaze of a Murray Edwards or brash bravado of an Ed Snider is a small, withered, insecure husk of a man who wants everyone to like them and hopes that no one is around to embarrass them when they try to talk to girls.

Part of that insecurity we have to acknowledge as hockey fans is that these owners are prone to mistakes. Proprietorship over a club is like having that whole collection of Ninja Turtle action figures you had as a kid, except on a much larger scale where there are real people involved. Who you control. Safe to say, that power can go to your head. Owners who fall prey to their own egos will test the limits of what is accepted or rational or allowed, just to see if anyone tries to get in their way and stop them (Exhibit A). Naturally, this can get owners in trouble, and unfortunately, they don't see the errors of their ways until it's a little bit too late (Might I once again remind you to take a gander at Exhibit A?!?!)

But, as luck would have it, these executives are empathetic and tend to look out for each other, as if they let one man go down based on his own merit as a billionaire, that's one less person they can play laser missile squash with at their secret rich guy clubs that we're not supposed to know about. As such, they band together, looking for ways to safeguard their power and vast influence from their single greatest nemesis: